Just Lucky, I Guess: Part 10

by DuAnn Cowart

Standard disclaimers apply, and as always,
feedback is appreciated.

There may be a wee bit of naughtiness,
though, but just a bit.

She moved quickly, fluidly, without really thinking about her
movements. Her muscles knew what to do, and with very little
concious effort she dispatched the danger room holographic goons
with ease. They were fighting in a deserted building, with no
civilians present, so there was no need to contain the damage or
worry about innocents. She sighed. This was just too damn easy. I'm
barely even breaking a sweat, she groused. Not enough
effort involved to make me quit thinking about things- I need
something with a little kick.

As she stretched she calmly used her authorization code as
team leader of X-Force to remove the safety overrides and started
over. The environment shifted, and became a dark city street
littered with garbage and rubble, with a few winos huddled in
alleyways. Now the opponents were much fiercer. They came at her
with a slick mechanical precision and she had to use all the
considerable resources at her disposal to avoid being hurt, or
worse. This time, she knew the game was for real- and as she
smoothly spun and fired a plasma burst at a looming Sentinel, she
also knew that she wouldn't have it any other way.

He walked down the corridor at a brisk pace. New York had been
nice, and he'd decided to keep the apartment there for a while,
but it was really good to be home. He hadn't told anyone he was
coming, just used his security codes to enter the gate and
chatted with Gumbo for a few minutes when he walked in the front
door. Gambit had monitor duty that day and had for a change
actually paid attention to the job. Seeing the Harley drive up,
he'd met him at the door with a brisk bear hug and one of his own
personal stash of fine Cuban cigars as a welcome home gift.

Logan inhaled deeply as he walked down the hall. Good stuff-
he was glad his healing factor was back up to snuff so he could
enjoy it properly. Who'd'a thought the Cajun would be glad ta
see me one day? he grinned, recalling their less than cordial
first days as teammates. He walked up the stairs to his room,
swung his bags inside the door, and turned around. It'd been a
long ride and he was hungry, but he needed to stretch his muscles
a bit first.

He walked by the danger room and swore slightly at the
'occupied' sign. I've got plently o' time, he consoled
himself. I'll just go to the observation room and watch- maybe
pick up some pointers, he grinned, knowing very well that no
one in the mansion could beat him in one-on-one combat.

Entering the room, he found a comfortable sat and propped his
legs on the instrumentation. He looked down into the room, and
blinked in surprise- instead of the Romper Room (though still
impossibly difficult for a normal human, he conceded) he'd been
half expecting, this was a real workout. Someone had disengaged
the safety overrides, and was actually doing some serious
fighting. Scott'd have three ducks and a baby octopus,
Logan chuckled, knowing that such a procedure was strictly
forbidden. He grinned when he saw who it was- her slight figure
had been hidden from his sight by the Sentinel, and the sealed
Shi'ar room played havok with his senses, but he should've
suspected it to be her- he'd known her a long time, and she'd
never been one to abide by pansy rules.

She was firing rounds directly in the face of the huge machine
reaching for her, snarling curses and, Logan knew, having one
hell of a good time. Her face was covered with streaks of blood
from a gaping cut right under her hairline and her uniform was
ripped in a dozen places, but from the state of disrepair of the
two Sentinels around her he knew she was doing just fine. She
leaped over the huge hand, twisting, and eluded the grasp of the
nearest Sentinel, changing weapons in midair. She swung up on its
thumb, leapt again, and took off its head with a well-placed
plasma burst.

Logan leaned back in the chair and took another deep drag of
the cigar. Not bad at all, Dom, he admitted, and crossed
his arms over his head, watching every move Haven't lost yer
touch, girl.

She didn't even pause, only shifted weapons again, racing
behind the remaining behometh to reach up and place a wad of
plastique behind each of its knees. She then sprinted to the
corner of the room, darted behind a holographic car where she'd
earlier herded the winos, and waited. The ensuing explosion
rocked the room. Still leaning, Logan crossed his arms over his
head and watched. This is better than the picture show, he
grinned ferally Wish I had some popcorn.

She ran back across the room, hurling mockeries at the
wrigging two-story torso. She bounded across its chest, dropped a
thermal grenade, and spun away to return to the relative safety
of behind the car.

After it was all over, she exited the program. As the
holographic images faded, she gathered her gear, a pleased smile
gracing her face. Logan watched from the observation room,
mentally applauding her. Neena, ya still got it where it
counts. Cable's a lucky man. She walked across the the room
to the exit, ruined uniform baring generous expanses of skin. In
more ways than one, Logan grinned, then half-heartedly
chastised himself for thinking such about an old friend.

He met her in the debriefing room as she was passing through.
Her eyes widened in surprise, but her voice was impassive as
always. "Hey, Logan. How ya doin'?"

He grinned in gruff pride. "Good ta see you, too, kid. Ya
did good down there- looks like you did pay attention ta me at
least *some* of the time."

She allowed herself an amused smile. "You were
watching?"

He nodded. "Yep. An' don't worry, I won't tell Scoot or
anybody else that ya turned off the safety overrides. I knew ya
could handle it."

Her eyes narrowed. "Frankly, Logan, I don't care if you
tell Captain Kangaroo, the Impossible Man, or any of the
flonquing Summerses - Cyclops, Nate, any of 'em. They're all
probably related anyhow. Screw the whole bunch, I don't give a
shit."

Logan quirked his lips sympathetically. "I take it
Cable's screwed up again."

She looked down at him and sighed. "Yeah- he really has.
I'm gettin' too old to be bothered by this shit, Logan."

He shook his head gently "You never get too old to be
bothered by that sorta thing, darlin'. Now do me a favor and let
me run through that program of yours- it looked kinda
interestin'."

She grinned at him "Only if I get to watch, old
man."

He leered playfully at her "Oh, ya like ta watch, do
ya?"

She laughed lightly and shook her head "Actually, no, but
that's immaterial. Now get your hairy rear in there and let's see
if you can beat my time."

Cable sat in a huge recliner in one of the rec rooms, idly
watching television. He had the sound off, and the silence was
wonderful- the pounding in his head had at least faded to a dull
ache, and he was finally relaxing. Today had been horrible-
another awful day in what was shaping up to be a horrible week.
Dom had given him the cold shoulder all day, rightfully so, he
admitted, but he just couldn't bring himself to apologize. For
now, though, he could almost make himself forget all about it and
drift off into a deep, relaxing nap...

"Nathan! There you are! I have been looking for you. Get
up- it is too early to rest!" Storm's lilting voice
penetrated the benevolent fog of sleep. She walked in the room
and sat opposite him in an oaken rocking chair. She held two
envelopes in her left hand, and snapped her fingers at him with
her right. "Nathan! Wake up!"

He groaned and turned away from her, mentally wishing she'd go
away. The imperious demands of a self-proclaimed goddess were not
particularly pleasant during a power nap. She continued speaking
to him, her voice growing increasingly irate, until he turned
around. "Oh...hello, Ororo," he mumbled, trying to
surpress his annoyance.

She leaned forward, smiling at him "Hello! Are you not
glad I woke you up, Nathan? It is still such a glorious
day!"

He rubbed his eyes, headache returned full-force. This is
not good, he thought, I haven't had migraines like this
since puberty- Seeing her, he replied "Oh. Yeah, sure.
Uh, listen, Ororo, I've gotta check something out. I'll see you
at supper-" He stood up and stretched, rubbing his temple,
and walked toward the door.

She looked at him curiously "Is anything wrong, Nathan?
May I help?" She looked up at him, blue eyes widened in
concern.

"Just a headache, Ororo, but thanks. I'll be fine- just
going to see if Hank can give me something for it." He
reached down and grabbed his baseball cap from the endtable where
he'd taken it off to nap.

She pursed her lips in disapproval. "It is not good to
rely on pharmaceuticals, Nathan," she began. "The body
heals itself much better when free from foreign influences like
drugs-"

He breathed in deeply and broke off her lecture. "You're
probably right. I'll see you later." Before she could reply,
he spun on his heels and left the room. Ororo shrugged her
shoulders and opened her mail.

Hank was busily putting away some instruments when Cable came
through the door. The blue-furred Beast rubbed his hands together
in mock glee and said with his best mad-scientist laugh "And
what can I do for you today?"

Cable winced at his booming tone "Please, Hank, I have an
awful headache-"

The good Doctor raised a sapphire eyebrow "I'll forego
the cliched 'take two aspirin' response, knowing that you
wouldn't dream of invading my beloved lab unless it were serious-
please, Nathan, have a seat."

Motioning to the examination table, Hank continued "It
must be the day for it. Your lovely partner was just in here
complaining of much the same problem. Of course, that rather
large gash on her forehead could explain some of her pain, but
she said it had been bothering her all week..." Hank
prattled on, oblivious to the expression on Nathan's face.

"What? Domino was in here? What's wrong with her?"
Cable grabbed Hank's forearm a bit too roughly. V "Ho there!
Release mine appendage and we can talk!" Henry raised made a
face at the offending hand, and Nathan released it. "Sorry.
Just- Sorry. Tell me, Henry, is she alright? What's wrong with
her?" His voice was thick with concern.

"She's fine, Nathan, there's nothing wrong. I assumed
you'd already seen her, or else I'd've said nothing." His
voice was now soothing, sincere. "Just a cut from a danger
room sequence- I stitched it up, it won't even leave a scar. I do
it all the time. Though, I must say," and now his tone was
all business "I am concerned that she wouldn't allow me to
give her physical. I should have a complete medical examination
on file for everyone who lives here, but she adamantly refuses.
She'll come in to have me stitch things up, but that's about it.
Surely, you can talk to her?"

Nathan's tone was soft. "She doesn't like examinations
very much," closing his eyes at one particularly gruesome
memory, one time where he got her out a little too late. "I
won't...I can't say much more than that, but- don't push it,
Hank. It says a lot that she trusts you to do as much as you
do."

Hank nodded, understanding dawning in his soft blue eyes.
"I'm glad," he whispered, then returned his voice to
its former jocularity. "So, you have a headache, hmm? Tell
me all about it."